


Getting Even

by littlemissvincentvega



Series: Vince's Princess ♥ [9]
Category: Pulp Fiction (1994)
Genre: Arguing, Bickering, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Karma - Freeform, Love/Hate, Motel, Movie Night, Revenge, Scary Movies, Sleepy Daddy, Sulking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-18 14:53:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18252095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemissvincentvega/pseuds/littlemissvincentvega
Summary: your boyfriend Vincent has pissed you off (nothing new there) and you get back at him while at a motel with him and his colleague.





	Getting Even

“I don’t feel like doing it,” Vince says, clearing his throat, “therefore you have to.”

“I’m not your fuckin’ slave, n*gga!” Jules complains, and Vincent turns to you, looking sheepish. The three of you are laying low in a motel room for the night after a day of hits for Marsellus, and unfortunately, the TV wasn’t working properly.

“You do it, baby.”

You scowl at him. “I’m still not speaking to you, Vince,” you say, arms folded.

“C’mon, I said I was sorry!”

“It’s not fucking funny to pull a chair from under your girlfriend,” you snap, rolling over and facing the wall in a sulk.

“S’not funny, Vince,” Jules says, raising his eyebrows at his coworker.

Vincent shoots him a dirty look and hoists himself lazily off of the bed, then saunters over to the TV. You hear his hand bang against the side of the box - it’s a chunky old thing. “Fuckin’ TV,” he grumbles, smacking it a few more times until the picture shows. 

“You’re such a bullshitter, Vince,” Jules points out. “’I don’t watch TV’, he says. You don’t ever get off your ass, man!”

You shift on the bed to watch them bicker. Vincent, who is standing and admiring his handiwork, turns to Jules, offended. He makes that familiar face that says he’s trying to think of a comeback - “I’m goin’ for a shit,” he mutters, slinking off to the bathroom.

Unimpressed, Jules turns to you. “How do you put up with that fuckin’ imbecile?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, sighing. “My fuckin’ ass is throbbing because of him.”

“Can I get ya anythin’?”

“Yeah, a bat to hit him round the head with.” 

He chuckles and walks over to the TV, flicking through the channels. “This okay?” he asks, and upon seeing that ‘The Omen’ is on, you nod approvingly. Smiling, Jules returns to the other bed, propping his head up with the limp pillows.

About ten minutes pass. You hear the toilet flush and a few seconds later the bathroom door swings open, your boyfriend strutting out and slamming the door. “I wouldn’t go in there if I were you,” he sniggers, jumping on the bed beside you and stretching out. He looks at you, waiting for a response, and slings an arm around you when you pay him no attention.

“Did you wash your hands?” you sniff, looking at him.

“Of course I fuckin’ did!”

“Hmph,” you say, tentatively cuddling up to him.

Vincent sighs. “How can I make it up to you, baby?”

“Light me a ciggy, get me some new jewellery, take me on vacation, give me a massage, get me a drink, take me out for dinner, buy me nice makeup, take me–”

“Fuckin’ forget it,” he mutters.

“Asshole.”

The two of you watch the movie in a sulk, eyes glued to the TV. You liked to annoy each other, but are equally as grouchy, so situations like this aren’t unheard of for you two. You’re both pretty chilled out, though, so thankfully nothing ever gets out of hand. 

When the film is nearly over, you take Vincent’s hand and squint at his watch - it’s approaching 8pm and none of you have had dinner yet. Jules has fallen asleep by now and you look at Vince, who’s half awake. “I’m hungry.”

“Hi hungry,  I’m Vince,” he mumbles, smirking to himself.

“Can we go to Big Kahuna?”

“Ain’t hungry.”

Annoyed, you climb on top of him and pry his eyes open with your thumbs. “Babe, I’m hungry!”

“I’ll take you if you forgive me for wounding your ass.”

“Whatever,” you say, rolling your eyes, “come on.” You drag him off of the bed and he grabs you, kissing your cheek again and again. “Stop!” you giggle, clutching at his loosened tie. He wraps his arms around your waist and you look up at him, considerably less pissed off.

“I’m sorry… I’ll let you shoot me if that makes us even,” he whispers.

“Nah,” you smile, “I’ll do that tomorrow.” You break away from him, heading towards the door. “C’mon, I’m starving.” He trails after you, trying not to wake Jules up, and as you’re both walking to the car, you stick your foot out.

A second later, Vincent is on the ground - he had toppled over face-first. Lying in a heap in front of you, he groans. “I had that comin’.”

Smiling and feeling slightly guilty, you help him up and wipe the bits of gravel from his suit. “Awww, I feel bad now,” you grin, standing on your tiptoes and kissing him sweetly.

“Well,” he says, his hands grazing your bruised ass, “I guess you’ll just have to make it up to me, then.”

You think for a second. “Nah… I just made us even.”


End file.
